


In The Drought Of My Heart, Your Flowers Still Bloom

by Ahhuya



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Sick Keith (Voltron), Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 16:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19254535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahhuya/pseuds/Ahhuya
Summary: A year after breaking up with his boyfriend and moving to a different city, Shiro decides he needs some change in his apartment. The flower shop in his street is the perfect place to find company. In the form of a simple cactus. But Shiro doesn’t realize stepping inside the shop will have unwanted consequences.





	In The Drought Of My Heart, Your Flowers Still Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Finally I can post this fic for the Sheith Prompt Bang! This was a prompt I badly wanted and am glad I could actually work on. Tho, if you didn't spoil yourself through the tags yet, I don't want to spoil everything I tried to build up just yet :') I'll be honest that this fic killed me multiple times with how horrible and cheesy some of the fluff in it is, but it has a good balance in my opinion. And so I give you this fic, which in my heart will always be called Shiro the Cactus Man.  
> Please do check out my artist Okasstuff as well. You can find it [here](https://okasstuff.tumblr.com/post/185669236660/for-sheith-prompt-bang-my-prompt-was-hanahaki) (but beware for spoilers for the story)

In the year Shiro has lived in the neighborhood, he’s gotten to learn a number of things. First, Hunk’s bakery is the best place to get a quick breakfast before work. The food is out of this world, and the enthusiasm Hunk and Shay carry out over their store is contagious. It’s nearly impossible to leave without a smile, even on a day where it is so difficult to get out of bed, or he knows his day will be too long to come out with a good mood. Second, he’s sure Lance is feeding Black whenever she crosses the low border between their balconies. The cat complains less every time she comes back from a few hours of disappearance. He guesses that Lance is much of a cat person too, having doted on Black the moment the man introduced himself and his girlfriend as Shiro’s neighbors. Finally, the dog in the window of Marmora Flowers is terrifying. Hidden underneath the long palm leaves and surrounded by small bouquets of chrysanthemums, its dark fur pokes through in the dim lighting of the store. The eyes never leave the street, even as its head is laid down on top of its crossed paws. Yet, behind the dog, another figure never fails to catch Shiro’s attention when he walks by to enter his flat. The true specialty of Marmora Flowers is the man working there. Black hair stands behind the counter, a voice of honey sounding from the doorway, onto the street, every time a customer leaves.

Of all the excuses to enter the shop, none ever worked. Every chance to find some small talk in the morning when the man sets a table with discounted flowers outside, gets ruined by even earlier shifts. By the time Shiro gets back home, the dog in the window along with any chance for him to walk inside are gone. In the weekends, he already has a bag of groceries in his hands, and despite having walked by empty-handed at first, he never steps inside on the way.

That is until Shiro finds himself in front of the window without any excuse. The flower pot in his windowsill has been empty for a few weeks, the sight of the brown and dead plant finally a sore sight to his eyes. There was no funeral for ‘ _Calypso, the brave spider plant_ ’ except for Black’s disapproving meows when it met its absolute end in the trash can.

Perhaps, Calypso wasn’t meant to last, like Shiro is convinced no plant is supposed to after it enters his home. Before Calypso, there was Champion, though that one didn’t live up to its name. Why Shiro still names his plants, he doesn’t know. He only gets attached to things that don’t stay with him. It’s something he has long gotten used to.

He gets reminded of that as he reaches out for the shop’s door. The metal of his arm greets him from underneath his winter coat. He can’t get attached to things if they either leave him or he loses them himself. The avalanche that crushed him underneath a layer of stone and snow wasn’t his fault. Still, he tells himself he should have seen it coming. In the end, he can only call himself lucky by still being alive. A scar on his nose, a prosthetic arm, white hair from shock, and a dream job one inspiring speech later, he knows he has his life together. That Champion didn’t survive the months he spent in the hospital is only normal. He can’t expect Matt or Adam to care for a plant when another life is fading in front of them.

As the door to the shop opens, Shiro watches the dog in the window move its ears. It looks up for a second with bright yellow eyes, before resting its head on its paws again to the view outside.

“Welcome. Can I help you?” The guy behind the counter looks up. The way his hair flows along his shoulders is even better up close. A pink scar runs across the man’s cheek, fascinating in Shiro’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Shiro says as he averts his gaze to look around the sets of flowers at the side. A number of buckets are filled with roses, some more with lilies and a few that he doesn’t remember the name of. Only that he once used to gift them to Adam, his ex-boyfriend. “Do you have a cactus?”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be at a garden center for that?” The man frowns. “Not really a thing to enter a flower shop for.”

“I guess the name of your shop just caught my interest,” Shiro says as he motions to the letters on the window. “Especially the ‘for any daily flower’ part.”

“This didn’t really feel like a ‘marriage and funeral arrangements’ kind of shop.” The man says, as he makes air quotations. “Why lie about it?” He shrugs as he walks away from the counter and gets closer.

“So what are you looking for?”

“A cactus, any kind is okay,” Shiro says. “I need something I’m sure I  can’t kill.”

The man laughs. “Who’d think that someone as perfect looking as you would be bad with plants. What did you kill?”

“A spider plant. Twice.”

“A spider plant.” The guy nods firmly. “You might need that cactus after all.”

“Thanks.” Shiro groans.

“Don’t worry, I know I should have a cactus around here somewhere.” The man laughs softly and walks around the store. He passes the table with ferns and simple bouquets. He maneuvers between the buckets of loose flowers, roses touching his leg as he walks by.

“Let’s see.” The man scratches the back of his head. “I know I put down around here... Come on, buddy. Move.” He shoos the dog away from the window.

It jumps away and settles next to Shiro. The man moves a few potted palms out of the windowsill, holding them like they weigh nothing. In the corner of the window, he takes out a small, red pot.

“This one is perfect for you.” The man smiles and holds out the plant to Shiro. There is a cluster of four small cacti waiting in the dirt. “It doesn’t need much care, at least water it once a month and it should stay alive just fine.”

“That’s it?” Shiro asks as he looks at the small plant. It doesn’t look like there is much more for it to need, but after the death of Calypso, nothing would surprise him anymore.

“That’s the most you should do really.” After one look at Shiro’s face, the man shakes his head. “At least try not to kill it with too much water.  Just once a month, okay?”

Shiro nods. “I can do that.”

They walk to the counter. The register hits a $5,40 which Shiro is almost certain of doesn’t include the red pot. The dog has found its spot back, slightly annoyed at the misplaced palm now blocking part of its view.

“There you go.” The man says as he places the cactus in a paper bag and hands it over.

“Thank you,” Shiro says as he watches the cactus inside.

“Just call me Keith. Everyone around here does.”

“Thanks then, Keith. I’m Shiro.” Shiro says though the name leaves his lips with trouble. Too familiar for a mere stranger.

“Don’t worry about it, Shiro.” Keith smiles. The sound of his name rolling across Keith’s lips is enough to have Shiro short-circuit.

“You live around here?” Keith asks in a loose attempt to have Shiro return to Earth with his mind.

“Yeah, one of the apartments on top of here actually.” Shiro scratches the back of his head.

Keith whistles softly. “I was lucky enough to get a shop in this street, but to live here…” He laughs. “I don’t think selling flowers will ever earn enough for that.”

“It’s a nice neighborhood.” Shiro nods.

“Well if you live so close,” Keith smiles, “make sure to walk in some time. See if that cactus of yours will survive the winter.”

“I’ll make sure I do. If your dog allows me to.”

At the mention, bright eyes look back at him again from the other side of the store.

“He likes company, he won’t mind.” Keith smiles. “He doesn’t bite, just drools a lot.”

“I’ll make sure to come for a cactus checkup.” Shiro nods. “See you soon.” He lets a hand run across the dog’s back and walks out with a disguised hurry.

It isn’t until the noise of other passersby engulves him, that he takes a deep breath. The bag with the cactus is heavy in his hand. The minute it takes to get into his apartment building and stick his key into the front door isn’t enough to calm down, but he’s learned to keep it to himself. He’s always been good at that. Not that Black cares about it. As long as he doesn’t forget to feed her, she doesn’t mind what goes on.

He places the cactus on the windowsill, in front of his balcony. It catches the most light there, and the least unwanted attention from Black who has her own pillow in the window next to it. It’s Calypso’s old spot, but the plant gives a new energy to the room.

The red pot stands out against the monotone colors of his apartment. The only other color comes from a patchwork pillow on his black leather couch and a paint splatter painting on his white wall. Both gifts from Adam, from when their relationship was still strong and they’d both agree on Shiro’s impulsive crafting date nights. He doesn’t know if Adam still has his versions of the pieces, he doesn’t care. The pillow is one of Black’s favorite, after all, perfect when she wants to lay in Shiro’s lap but he doesn’t want her black hair all over his clothes. The cactus fits well in the same setting. A start to a new life.

Black looks up from her gray window pillow as the cactus finds its own spot. In the back of his mind, Shiro wants to name it, but he knows better. It’s just a cactus, nothing more. With some luck, it won’t die before the end of the month.

* * *

The cactus lasts the first week, followed by another. The change of color in the apartment is welcoming, and each day Shiro gets back home exhausted from work, the small plant warms his heart. It’s not something the last few ever managed to achieve. Both Champion and Calypso were just there, growing in their gray pots before fate decided to cut their lives short.

So it is after those first two weeks that Shiro finds the time to step back inside the flower shop again. Nothing has changed, except for the flowers outside. It’s a row of orchids that greets him in front of the dog’s watchful gaze now.

Entering the shop for the second time shouldn’t be a problem, but deep down it feels worse than the first time. They’ve met now, exchanged names along with a couple of loosely connected words. They can talk without too much trouble.

Keith stands behind his counter, back turned to the door as he arranges flowers on a table against the wall. He looks over his shoulder, a smile forming on his face when Shiro steps inside.

“Hey,” He greets, laying down the flowers to lean on the counter, “haven’t seen you in a while. Wait…” his eyes grow wide, “don’t tell me you already killed that cactus. It’s a _cactus_ , Shiro.”

Shiro chuckles and shakes his head. “The cactus is fine, doing great even. I just wanted to drop by, you did tell me to stop by, didn’t you.”

“Welcome then.” Keith nods before he picks up the flower he laid down before. They’re yellow roses, fitting in a bouquet of soft spring tones. “I need to finish up on this thing first, but it’s a calm day so stay around as long as you want.”

“I don’t mind.” Shiro smiles. He likes the way Keith’s gloved fingers remove thorns and piece everything together. He tames wildflowers like they never could put up a fight, like they never wanted to hurt him in the first place.

As Keith said, the store doesn’t get a lot of customers that day. Two random people that Shiro doesn’t recognize step inside and leave again within five minutes, only needing a premade bouquet to have some sort of kind gesture for whatever friend or relative they’re visiting that evening.

The dog is best of. Each customer pets its back absently as they walk around the store. When Keith is too busy concentrating on his new bouquet, Shiro can’t help but do the same thing.

“Do you have any pets?” Keith asks when he lays down his scissors and pulls of his gloves. The yellow colors of the flowers shine in the back.

“I have a cat actually.”Shiro laughs as he comes closer and rests his arms on the counter. “Got her a few years ago from the shelter.”

“A cat.” Keith hums. “I always wanted one, but then this guy came on my path.” Keith points at the dog in the window. Pointy ears enter the air at the realization of its mentioning. It seems a miracle that four paws leave the window and touch the floor instead. Nails scratch against tiles as he walks to Keith and nuzzles his leg.

“What kind of breed is he anyway?” Shiro says as he looks at the animal.

“No idea.” Keith shrugs as he crouches down to pet his dog. “Not even the vets know.”

“Then what did they tell you when you got it?”

“I found him in the park two years ago. Someone probably got him for their kid, realized he would be too big and thought it’d be the easiest way to get rid of him. He was just a puppy, he became even bigger.” Keith scratches behind the dog’s ear, his fingers lost in the long fur.

“What do you call him?”

“Nothing,” Keith says. “I don’t want to take his last connection to his old family away. But Lance made me write down Kosmo when I had to register him at the vet. After years of friendship and getting flowers for his girlfriend, he just betrayed me like that.”

“Kosmo.” Shiro hums. “That’s a nice name.”

“Maybe one day he’ll let me know who he really is.”

“You never tried to go after whoever abandoned him?”

“Would you?” Keith asks. “They might have wanted to take him back, but clearly he would only suffer more.”

There is nothing to say against that. Shiro knows he was the same when he saw the hurt and lonely cat back in the shelter. Abused and left alone by his owner who, despite being contacted by the shelter multiple times, never tried to take responsibility for the animal. At least until Black had a new home with Shiro where, by the time the cat was happily adjusted to living with him and his boyfriend, a number of threats came around. The old owner wanted his cat back. A cat that officially was no longer his. It was one of many things that tore him away from Adam back then.

He shakes his head. “You’re right. They only need our love.”

“This boy changed my life, I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to him.” Keith smiles as he strokes Kosmo’s fur one more time.

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“So is your cat,” Keith says. “I’d love to meet her.”

“You should stop by one day. I’m sure she’d like you.” Even if the cat is picky about who she accepts, something tells him Keith will be the exception for her love. Not even the stench of dog’s drool will become between that.

“Maybe...” Keith mutters, drifting back into his own world again. “Sorry, I have this order for an old lady that I should probably deliver to her.” He says, pointing at a bouquet in the back.

“Of course.” Shiro smiles. “I should probably head home as well. Black won’t let me back in if I don’t feed her soon.”

“You should go then, Shiro. I’ll see you again soon.”

* * *

They don’t see each other _soon_. Work doesn’t allow for it. A month later, he hasn’t seen Keith again, but the cactus still stands alive in the windowsill. Black’s disapproving attitude to the plant ended soon, the red pot keeping its spot in the full light. It’s still without a name, like Shiro promised himself. The plant doesn’t grow, but the little amounts of water do it good. At least it isn’t dead yet.

He leaves each morning with a cup of coffee in his hand, watching the cactus live. It’s a beautiful sight. The plant makes things a bit better and clears his head when he’s stuck on his tasks, along with everything else he’s pushed on himself. Like going back to Adam.

He has a date. Or not a date, it’s more a meeting between _just_ friends back in the town where they once lived together. Despite the few hours separating them, he hasn’t seen Adam in the year since he’s moved away. The few phone calls don’t count as actual socialization when they don’t last longer than ten minutes.

He doesn’t know if they can still call each other friends, not after the messy breakup and excuses left unsaid. They don’t talk a lot, don’t make stupid plans to watch falling stars together like they used to. Maybe it’s a thing only lovers would do, or maybe their relationship has fallen too far to be saved once more. Shiro is the one who changed, Adam the one unable to adapt.

Still, Shiro steps inside Marmora Flowers before their planned meeting. Because even for a friend, Shiro wouldn’t dare to show up empty-handed. It’s like giving Matt a free night out to the movies whenever the two of them find the chance to meet up. At least that’s what he tells himself.

There is nothing left between him and Adam. He wouldn’t take one of the discounted bouquets if there was. It’s just a simple set of flowers, a small bundle in his hands.

Kosmo no longer looks at him when he gets inside to pay. The only one whose eyes don’t seem to lose track of him is Keith. He can feel the deep purple following him from the other side of the store, the small distance not enough to keep the sudden energy out.

“Flowers,” Keith hums when he looks at the bouquet. “that’s new.”

“Ah yeah-” Shiro can’t explain himself before he feels his hone buzzing against his leg. Adam’s name shows up on the screen and Shiro can’t stop himself from picking up.

“Hey, Adam,” Shiro says.

 _“Hey,”_ Adam’s voice comes from the other side. _“Are you on your way yet?”_

“Come on, can’t a man buy you some flowers before going on a drive?”

_“Flowers? For meeting your ex? Sounds like a fun way of trying to win me back.”_

“You know I’m always sappy, you never complained before.”

_“We were together back then.”_

“Too bad.” Shiro laughs. “You’re already getting them now.”

 _“Fine.”_ Adam sighs. _“You know I’m getting you back for that one day.”_

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you soon. I really missed you.”

_“Sappiness, Takashi.”_

“Bye, Adam.”

Shiro shakes his head as he turns to Keith. The warmth in his eyes has cooled down. Shiro grabs his wallet and pulls crumbled bill of five and gives it to Keith, refusing to take back the change.

He wishes Keith a good day with happiness, but the man’s answer is soft and reluctant. Shiro can’t imagine what he has done wrong.

* * *

Adam has learned to deal with Shiro’s bad romantic side. Not romantic, Shiro reminds himself as he gives the flowers when he finally arrives at the coffee shop in the middle of town. Maybe it’s cheesy, but Shiro finds a connection to the blue plumerias with Adam.

The man laughs softly when Shiro shows up. It’s almost as if they never had a horrible breakup. As if Shiro never almost died and wanted to chase after the only career he might be able to have after losing everything.

Neither of them carries any proof they were ever engaged. They’re just two friends now, with no chance of becoming more again. They catch up instead. Adam’s career has skyrocketed since Shiro left. Literally. More flights to further places. What was once their cozy apartment is now abandoned for most of the year. He’s glad he took Black with him when he moved out. She was his anyway, Adam never wanted to deal with the trouble coming with the cat. The stalker, and mostly the attachment of having a cat to fix the mess of his own life were the last straws to end it all.

Still, it’s good to see each other again. The coffee is sweet, so is the talking. They’re both moving on, focusing on their jobs instead of love now. At least Adam is able to. For Shiro, work is a distraction from his feelings. From the he trauma and most of all love. Because in the end, Keith Kogane is out of his reach and protected by a giant dog. He’s learned to accept when he should stop trying.

Adam leaves with flowers, Shiro leaves with an emptied heart. Whatever part of him tries to make a last attempt of finding love again, has to realize it isn’t with Adam. His ex is quicker to let go and makes decisions like they don’t impact someone else along to way. Or Shiro waits too long and gets too attached to realize when things go south. In the end, the blame will always fall on him.

When he gets home, Black curls up in his lap on the patchwork pillow while he zaps away through meaningless dating shows. He watches the small cactus more than he looks at the tv.

**…**

Work puts a wall between him and Keith again. Each time Shiro passes, the store is closed with only a collection of loose flowers displayed in the window. During the day, little bits of white and pink lay around Kosmo’s nose. The dog must be immune to any toxic flowers with the way it doesn’t care what it is it sticks its nose into.

It’s a cute sight. Beautiful when passing by. White flowers don’t seem like Keith’s thing to decorate his business with. Keith’s flowers would be red, a bright beating heart. But the calm of white and pink looks better in the wooden windowsill.

They always grow in size and number, begging for him to step back inside and take whatever plant is producing them home. But meetings stop him even if the cactus is the constant reminder he has better things to do than work himself to death once more.

In the chaos of meetings and unmotivated people, he finally finds the chance to get home on at an earlier time. Exhausted, he pushes open the door to the store. A familiar face stands in front of the counter, talking happily with Keith.  He looks up at the sound of the door opening.

“Oh, hey Shiro!” Lance waves over, a bouquet of red roses in his other hand. “Didn’t know you shop here as well.”

“Yeah.” Shiro smiles softly. “I like plants.”

Keith snorts from behind the counter. “Sure you do. You two know each other?”

“We’re neighbors,” Shiro explains.

“Ouch, I’m sorry.” Keith laughs, getting a stare from Lance in return which he shakes off with a light shrug.

“I’ll let you know that Allura and I are perfect neighbors, right Shiro?”

Shiro smiles but stays silent otherwise. They’re no bad neighbors, lovely even. But just like Keith, Shiro knows Lance is fun to play with.

“Well, you do steal my cat.” He finally speaks up.

“She's the one who misses me all the time.”

“I think she likes Allura more.” Shiro smiles. At the mention of his girlfriend, Lance beams, suddenly remembering the roses in his hand.

“Yeah okay, Allura is great with animals like that.” Lance agrees, before walking away from the counter with a smile. “That reminds me I should probably go. Allura and I have a date back at Vrepit Sal’s. I need to make it the most beautiful night she’ll ever have.” He gives them a quick wave with his roses before dashing out the door.

When Lance is gone, it’s just the two of them again, savoring the moment together before another customer will be able to step in.

Shiro picks up a pot with a narcissus and watches its sprouting buds.

“I know you think I’m a plant disaster, but my last plant got to bloom once.” Shiro laughs. It had been a time of anticipation of what kind of flowers Calypso would bring. “But I probably didn't help it enough. It wilted even faster.”

“Sometimes they bloom to prepare for their death,” Keith tells him as he breaks a twig in two. “It's nothing but last resort. They know they won't live much longer anyway.”

“Sounds morbid.”

Keith shrugs. “Life is always morbid. We'd all do the same thing if we were able. Just to make sure a small part of yours can live on.”

Shiro frowns and sets the pot back on the table, the plant leaning down under its own weight. White flowers fall from the table to make room for the pot again.

“What are those?” Shiro says as he points at the loose flowers around the store. They’re everywhere now, scattered across the table and window.

“Just decoration.” Keith shrugs.

“They look beautiful.”

“A bother mostly.” Keith looks at the window where Kosmo is clearly avoiding to lay in the puddle of petals. There are too many now even for _his_ liking. “Nice for a moment but the longer you look at them, the more annoying they get.”

“Why decorate the shop with it then?” Shiro asks.

“I have too many, but throwing them away would be a waste. Other people seem to like them.”

“What kind of flower are they?”

“Nothing you would want to get.” Keith sighs as he buries his head in his hands. His raspy breath echoes throughout the small store before Keith coughs once and looks back up as if nothing is wrong.

“Do you need anything though? You haven’t stopped by for a while.” Keith asks.

Shiro shakes his head. “Just wanted to see you. Work has been chaotic and this place seems to always calm me down a bit.”

“Stay as long as you want then, Shiro.” Keith smiles. He walks through his store and collects a rainbow of flowers and places them behind the counter. In his hands, they form an unity, a bouquet shining in the dim lighting of the store.

It calms Shiro in a way not even Black can achieve. He retreats to the front of the store, stroking Kosmo’s fur as he breathes the full air of flowers.

* * *

The next morning, Black has walked out on him again. When Shiro looks up from his magazine, he can see her tail disappear behind the cactus, over the fence, and onto Lance’s balcony. Maybe he should put a net around it to make sure she can’t bother others like that. But since she never leaves for anyone but Lance, or perhaps Allura, he guesses it doesn’t matter. For a cat with particular tastes, she’s awfully accepting to his neighbors. Maybe the change of scenery has done her good. The threat surrounding her is significantly smaller now that their address no longer matches the shelter’s old system.

He sighs and gets up from the couch. No one needs to be bothered by Black’s whiney noises. Not even Lance. Not when it’s this close to her feeding time.

The border between their balconies isn’t big. Lance isn’t a man of much privacy, not when he can talk to his neighbors instead. He can’t see Black though. The door to Lance’s living room is ajar, wide enough for Black to slip through. Shiro sighs and leans on the side of the balcony. The soft calls of Black’s name don’t call her back inside, but it’s enough for the door to open a bit further and have Lance step outside. Black lays curled up in his arms, purring softly.

“Hey,” Lance beams from the other side.

“I’m sorry about Black. I didn’t know she was outside.” Shiro says, apologetically.

“Don't be. I’m sure she just wanted to share in our happiness.”

“Had a good date last night?”

“I finally asked her.” Lance beams. “She said ‘yes’.”

“Congratulations.” Shiro smiles. Five years of dating, one year of being lovely neighbors to Shiro, and he’s convinced that Allura can only find a perfect husband in Lance. Like she will be the perfect wife to him.

“I didn’t think that she really would say yes. I still couldn’t believe it when I woke up next to her.” Lance rambles on, his hand combing through Black’s fur.

“I never doubted it.” Shiro says.

The door opens and Allura steps out. She sinks into Lance’s side and playfully holds out a finger to Black. A silver engagement ring shines in the afternoon sun.

“I thought we told this little girl her owner will miss her like this.” She says as her finger gets caught between two paws.

“She gets more attention with you.” Shiro laughs. “Congrats to you too, Allura.”

“Thank you, Shiro,” Allura smiles as Black jumps away, back onto the balcony and back at Shiro’s side. “I wish my parents could have seen this moment, but Lance’s family is like my own. I’m happy.”

“What about you?” Lance looks up, “Any luck with love yet?”

“My last break up was a little over a year ago, I think I still need time before I go after someone again.”

“A year is a long time already. You never know what you can find.”

He’s already found it, he thinks. He’s found it but lets himself be held back by something he can’t explain. Perhaps he has dug another hole for himself. Keeping communication so low that there is nothing to build on.

“Who knows.” He mumbles. Black breaks his thoughts with her meowing in front of the door. It has fallen shut and she’s no longer in a mood to stay outside.

“Give her some love. Maybe she comes to us because you’re not home enough.” Allura laughs at the sight. “Though we should really all catch up over coffee sometime.”

“You’re always invited.” Shiro smiles.

“As are you. We’d love to see you at the wedding.” Their balcony door slides shut once all of Allura’s hair is back inside. Black doesn’t let him stare in the distance much longer. She’s hungry and in need of a long afternoon of cuddles. Who is he to ignore her?

The next day, he visits Keith. A set of white lilies is spread across the counter, bound together in a display of green.

“Lance and Allura got engaged,” Shiro says.

“Took long enough.” Keith huffs. “Plus those roses were beautiful, she’d be an idiot to say no.”

“Wonder who he’ll ask for the flowers during their wedding, though.” Shiro looks over at Keith, “Can’t go to a wedding with ‘any daily flower’.”

He gets hit on his head with a lily. “I hate you,” Keith grumbles. “I’ve created each bouquet Lance used to ask Allura on dates, so he better ask me.”

“Knowing  Lance, he will.”

“Or I’ll make him.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You don’t know me that well then.” Keith laughs. “I think you of all people should understand that you don’t get a scar out of thin air.”

He talks lightly, the marked skin on his skin dancing with the words. The scar isn’t an accident, like Shiro’s. It’s there deliberately, showing victory in a fight Shiro doesn’t even want to know about.

Keith’s fingers touch Shiro’s forehead in a flick. “Don’t break your brain over it, big guy. I won’t chase after Lance or anything. I’m just glad that idiot found someone who cares about him.”

“What about you? Is there anyone in your life?”

Keith shakes his head. “I don’t have the best luck with romance. It never works out.” His hand traces the scar before setting on the counter.

“I’m sorry.” Shiro sighs. _I’m the same_ he wants to add, but doesn’t. “I should probably go, you seem busy.” He can only run.

“I’ll see you later, Shiro.” Keith watches him go with sad eyes. The last thing shiro hears when closing the door behind him is Keith’s soft coughs when the door falls shut.

* * *

He doesn’t come back for a week. Something in his mind tells him that by now he has officially thrown away all his chances. Keith is already scarred by love, hurting from a failed relationship and in no mood to try again. Who is Shiro to change that? He couldn’t keep up his own engagement, still holding on to the last strands of a long-sunken relationship.

It doesn’t change the fact that he still eyes at Keith when the man’s working.  Shiro spends late mornings with Hunk, buying lunch for the sure to become long day ahead. He thinks he can see Kosmo wag his tail in the window whenever he walks by.

Maybe it’s too obvious, staring at the flower shop while Hunk prepares his order. It’s the same every day. He just doesn’t want to admit it himself.

He can’t deny it when he stops by one Saturday. With no work to drag him away, he’s easily dragged into a conversation with no way of getting out of it.

“So, you know Keith?” Hunk looks up as he places the bag with croissants and sandwiches on the counter.

“I bought a cactus from him once. He gives me advice on how to care for it.”Shiro says, dragging his eyes away from the window.

Hunk hums. It isn’t what he wants to hear, but it says enough.

“What about you? Do you know him?” Shiro asks as he goes to pay.

“He was a class above me and Lance in high school, but he was cold and only focused on his goals. We never got through to him.” Hunk starts, each breath in his pausing turns into a sigh.

“He doesn't seem that cold,” Shiro says as he turns around again and looks at the front of Keith's store. There are only flowers in his sight from his current spot, not even a small bit of Keith's white complexion to be seen.

“We found that out in college. He had to retake his year and got stuck with us.”

“I didn't realize you all knew each other that long. He said Lance was a friend, not an old classmate.”

“Keith might mostly have forgotten about us. He went through a lot at that time. Dropped out and disappeared for a few years. Never expected him to show up here with a dog and a scar on his face. Even less with a flower shop. But he looks happy now. Left everything behind at least.”

Shiro hums. Keith does look happy each time Shiro walks in. The shop gets a large number of customers each time Shiro is able to look down the street from his small balcony on the front of the apartment. It must be a good life.

“He seems like a mystery sometimes.” Shiro sighs.

“He’s just Keith. He likes sweet things and feeds his dog half his food because he can’t resist its eyes.”

“Sounds like him.” Shiro agrees. Except that Keith is definitely more than just a misunderstood man in the middle of the city.

“Are you stopping by his place soon?” Hunk asks as he leans down behind the counter and grabs a white paper bag. “I had some leftover cupcakes and I wanted to give them to him. Lunch is soon and I won’t be able to leave the shop any time soon.”

He didn’t plan on it, but with Hunk’s offer standing, he doesn’t want to refuse. “I was thinking about getting some more help with my cactus.” He lies. The cactus is doing fine, better than ever. “I’m sure he’ll love the cupcakes, Hunk.”

“No problem.” Hunk smiles. “I’m glad he’s found someone to spend more time with. He might seem like someone who prefers being alone, but I believe he gets lonely easy.”

“He’s special, I would never want him to be on his own.”

“Tell him that.”

Before Shiro can reply, Hunk has his back turned to him and is already in deep conversation with the next customer of the busy lunch. After leaving Keith for so long, it doesn’t feel right to say such words.

* * *

 

“I haven’t seen you here for a while. Everything okay?” Keith says when Shiro walks in.

“Work’s been busy,” Shiro smiles, “Hunk had to bribe me with food to even get to you again. He wanted me to give you some cupcakes.”

“That guy is too good for this world, I swear.” He holds his hand out and Shiro hands over the bag. “Red velvet,” He hums, “the best there is. Especially when you’re addicted to it.”

Shiro falls silent, but Keith doesn’t let him leave.

“Here,” Keith places a cupcake on the counter. “try it.”

“I’m not sure if I should.” Shiro laughs softly. “My body is probably already hating me for the amount of take out I’ve been eating this week.”

“As if you don’t look a god or anything.” Keith mutters, but soon his smile falls as he coughs into his armpit.

“You okay?” Shiro asks when Keith’s coughing dies out again.

“Yeah,” Keith weakly nods, “but Hunk won’t like it if you don’t try his food. Just a bite, Shiro. It’s good. Otherwise, I’ll have to give it to the dog and I don’t think it’s much better for him than it is for you.”

“Fine.” Shiro laughs and takes the cupcake. There’s no way he can say no to Keith, and the attempt to do so is only painful.

He doesn’t need the confirmation that the cupcake is good, he’s bought lunch from Hunk’s place too many times to act like his bakings are bad. Still, the way the cupcake melts on his tongue is special. Chocolate drips on his tongue, leaving a sweet taste behind.

“Told you so.” Keith smiles as he watches Shiro. Shiro only hums, not wanting to empty his mouth for any better answer. He could stay with Keith like this for hours, but in the end, they both have their own days laid out. When the cupcakes are gone and Kosmo’s puppy eyes have made Shiro one croissant lighter, he goes back home again.

When he gets home the cactus has changed, parts have grown out towards the sunlight in the past few weeks. A final attempt of survival, like Keith said. Though Shiro doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. It looks healthy, but so had Calypso before its fall.  Why would a cactus be different? Perhaps he shouldn’t have started to name it, dragging it down with a name it can’t live up to.

He’ll let it sit until each part shrivels up. Despite giving it some water, Keith’s voice haunts the back on his mind. He can’t let it drown in the attempt to save it. Perhaps it’s already a lost cause.

* * *

 

He drowns out the worry about the cactus by going to Keith instead. Though he doesn’t dare to face him with a dying cactus back home, there is nothing more satisfying than watching Keith work. After a long day of trying to get a small group of unmotivated employees to at least some sort of working standard, nothing calms him down more than the soft smell of many different flowers. The table inside is decorated with bright, white flowers. More are placed around the table every day, never withering, only growing brighter each day.

“Hey,” Keith greets. His throat sounds raspy, a mug of hot tea set down on the counter in a poor attempt to hide his cold. “missed seeing you around here. Cactus still alive?”

“Yeah.” Shiro smiles. “It’s doing great really. Black hasn’t tried to throw it away either.” It’s the partial truth, but he doesn’t want to admit he’s on his way to being a triple murderer now.

“If it survived the time in the shop, I’m sure it can survive your cat.” Keith coughs, covering his mouth and quickly downing his tea.

“That sounds like a bad cough,” Shiro notes.

“Don’t worry.” Keith forces himself to smile. “It will be over soon enough.”

“You could always take a sick day. Your health is more important than this shop.”

Yet Keith shakes his head. “I can’t. This place is all I have.”

“Is there anyone who could take your shift for a time?”

“My mom is the only one who has any experience with the store. But she’s busy with work and I don’t want any of my uncles walking around in here.”

“Too bad I don’t have any experience with flowers.” Shiro laughs. “I’d gladly help you out if I could.”

“It’s just a cold, Shiro. I’m not going to stay home because of it.”

“I know. You’re stubborn.”

“What about you?” Keith smirks. “You don’t seem to stop either. Your job sounds more deadly with all the boring people you have to deal with.”

“I almost died once, I don’t think having meetings is anything like that.”

Keith hums. “Just wouldn’t want to see you go.”

“I feel the same to you.”

But Keith only frowns at the words and coughs again.

* * *

Each workday gets longer until there’s nothing more to get Shiro out of bed than the idea that in the evening, he can have Black for himself again. In the windowsill, the cactus waits for eyes that never stop on it for more than a few seconds. Shiro wants to be a better owner to it. If he could, he’d hold the cactus together with an ice cold beer on the couch during a bad movie. But he only has two hands, and his one human hand is already taken by Black’s demand for pets.

He doesn’t hear from Keith again since the last time he visited. Deep down he knows it is because he doesn’t find the time to step inside the shop again. It’s how every relationship goes. It’s a miracle he can still call some people his friends, even if they can be counted on one hand and most of them live a few hours away.

But the cactus doesn’t leave, even if he can’t give it all he wants and has to give. He greets it in the morning though, its new name flowing over his tongue with ease. Almost too easy, but he can’t stop himself once he’s started.

The cactus still grows, new parts sticking out and reaching for the sun. He can almost track its progress with every passing day until one day, newly grown buds spring open overnight.

Soft white flowers with pink edges glow in the sunlight. He’s seen them before, he realizes. Scattered around Keith’s store, resting on Kosmo’s nose. The most beautiful is that the cactus looks healthy in its bloom, and not slowly turning brown as Calypso had. It’s because of Keith, Shiro knows. Because Keith told him it would be okay, the flowers are so bright. Like him.

He rushes down the stairs without bothering to lock everything up. Instead, everything in his tells him to get down and tell Keith about the miracle.

Despite his hurry to get to the store, he notices how Kosmo isn’t laying in the window. The palms look sad behind the glass and the usual table with bouquets isn’t set outside.

“Keith?” Shiro asks as he steps inside. But Keith doesn’t stand behind the counter. Unless the man got a growth spurt and dyed his hair purple since they last met.

“He isn’t here.” The person behind the counter, a woman Shiro realizes when he walks closer, says. “Can I help you with anything?” Her eyes shine a similar indigo to Keith’s, yet filled with threats as she takes him in.

“Not really.” Shiro laughs uncomfortably. “Do you have any idea when Keith is coming back in?”

“He probably isn’t.” The woman crosses her arms. “He’s in no condition to work.”

“Is he sick? I told him that cold seemed bad.”

“That doesn’t concern you.” She says, walking to the window where a number of white petals lay, red splotches covering some of it. She looks at him again, a frown forming on her face. “You’re already hurting my son too much.”

Her son. Because of course, Keith has a terrifying mother. “I would never hurt him,” Shiro assures her. “I care deeply for him.”

“But do you feel the same way he does? Would you rather die if you’d figure out that he’s out of reach?” Shiro tries to find an answer but gets cut off before he can speak the words. “Because that’s what he is doing, Shiro.”

“How do you-“

“He calls your name whenever he’s able to breathe. He cries holding onto your memory. He talks about you when he’s conscious and worst of all, he doesn’t want it any other way.”

“How am I the cause for any of that?”

“You shouldn’t have stepped inside here and given him a false hope on getting you.”

“I-”

“Don’t you get it, Shiro?” She frowns, “He loves you so much and you don’t even try to answer it.”

“I don’t think I follow.”

“Of course you don’t.” She sighs. “Because you haven’t seen him like that, coughing up flowers every time he gets home. It always gets worse when you come by to talk about absolutely nothing.”

“What are you talking about.”

“Keith is dying because of you. His love has turned to flowers because you can’t give him what he needs. For him, there could be no better way to keep you close.”

“There could be.” He tells himself.

“If you think there is, then at least see him before it’s too late.”

“I don’t even know where he lives.”

“I’m about to head back. You can join me.” The woman says, as she picks up a piece of paper and walks to the window. When ‘ _Because of personal circumstances, Marmora Flowers will be closed until further notice_ ’ is in prominent sight on the entrance, she turns to him. After locking up the place, she guides him to her car. They’re silent during the ride. Well kept apartments make room for broken windows and strange passersby along the way.

They stop in an alleyway, walls covered in graffiti and trash. There’s a backdoor, leading a similar dirty building. It feels unreal that she stops at the door on the fourth floor, sticks the key in and opens the door.

The room is small. The door opens to a little kitchen, already occupied by a single man leaning against a counter with a cup of coffee in his hands. His face is solemn, concerned.

“How is he doing?” Krolia asks as they walk inside. The apartment is clean on the inside, in contrast to the outside of the building. It’s an empty space with bare essentials: a table, some chairs, a couch, a tv and a big bed for the dog. For running a flower shop, Keith lacks a number of plants around the room.

“Krolia,” the man says in a greeting and looks up at them when they get in, “He hasn’t gotten worse.” The man sighs. “If that is anything to go by.”

“Thanks for looking after him. I’ll take it from here.” Krolia places a hand on the man’s shoulder as she walks past him, placing her bag on the kitchen counter.

“Is that?” The man looks at Shiro.

Krolia nods, the only answer the man needs to increase the frown on his face.

“I’m Shiro.”

“Yes, we know.” The man says as he takes Shiro’s hand. “Your name is the only thing he manages to say these days.”

“This is Kolivan.” Krolia explains. “We’re old friends from work.”

A ‘nice to meet you’ isn’t spoken by either of them, because it isn’t a nice occasion for anyone in the room. Cold gazes are all they need to make their feelings clear. There is no need to ask what kind of work the two are into, it including violence seems to likely with the amount of scars and muscle on their bodies.

“Where’s Keith?” Shiro asks.

“In his bedroom.” Kolivan frowns, turning to Krolia, “Do you really want to do this?”

“We both know it’s what we should do. If we lose him, it will be because we didn’t allow this.” She tells him.

Kolivan sighs and takes a step back. His hand curls around the cup, and Shiro is almost surprised the thing doesn’t break under the pressure.

With a hand around Shiro’s arm, Krolia leads him to a wooden door. After a knock, she opens it. She lets Shiro inside but stays in the opening herself.

“If anything happens, come get us.” She says before she closes the door, leaving Shiro behind in the dimly illuminated room, as empty as the rest of the apartment.

Kosmo lays at the foot of the bed. His face is tucked on his paws as usual, except this time, his eyes are open wide and looking at Keith with concern. The floor is covered in flowers, the air smells like copper. It’s no surprise with the red staining each petal in the room. There’s too much to easily get rid of.

Shiro lets a hand run through Kosmo’s fur before he sits down at the side of the bed. Small strands of black hair come out from underneath the covers, accompanied by raspy breaths.

“Mom?”

“It’s Shiro.” He tries to hide the worry in his voice. Still, he fails when Keith enters a rough coughing fit at the announcement of his name. White and pink flowers slip from the man’s lips, blood covering his hands as he tries to cover his mouth.

Keith props himself up on shaky elbows, head buried in his pillow as the flowers keep coming. Shiro keeps a hesitant hand above his back, unsure if the touch is what Keith needs. His flesh arm eventually settles on Keith’s shirt, patting his back as one last flower tries to finally end it all.

When the room is back to almost silent and Keith’s face is partially buried in his pillow again, Shiro lets go of the breath he'd been holding. Keith struggles for air, wheezing into his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks when his breathing is back under control again. It’s a faint whisper against the damage the flowers have already created.

“I wanted to tell you my cactus bloomed,” He tries to keep the mood light, like Keith isn’t dying,  “but instead I got threatened by your mom and saw you cough up the same flowers I fell in love with today.”

Keith groans. “I’ll murder that cactus one day.”

“Looking forward to it,” Shiro smiles, “it’d mean you’re well again.”

“I doubt that will happen. There is no cure, not one I’m willing to take anyways.” Each time a sentence grows longer, Shiro can hear the struggle in Keith’s breathing.

With that, Shiro’s smile falters. “Can’t you go to a hospital? They could remove the flowers.”

“Removing them means I’ll need to admit my feelings are worthless all over again. I’m not doing it this time.” There is no time for Shiro to worry about those words however because soon all of Keith’s words are taken away by another fit. Worse this time. Keith chokes, his head going red in a desperate attempt to suck in any oxygen through the flowers blocking his airway. Keith looks too calm under it, too prepared to finally stop breathing. Shiro’s hand lays unmoving on Keith’s back. Even if he wants to help, his mind is too occupied with the sight of cactus flowers.

Keith doesn’t stop breathing. Shiro knows he’s too stubborn to die right in front of him. A weak hand shoves the new pile of flowers to the floor as Keith lays back on his side again.

“I get it Shiro,” Keith’s voice comes out with too much effort, a mere whisper between the crawling flowers in his throat, trying to keep a new wave down, “you don’t have to watch me die.”

Shiro shakes his head. “No, I won’t leave you.”

“You shouldn’t stay here.” Another cough interrupts him. No flowers come up this time, but more blood stains the already red pillow.

“Keith, when my boyfriend and I broke up, it was because I almost died. He walked out when he realized he didn’t want to see me suffer.”He sighs, not waiting for Keith to make an attempt to go against him. “Now I understand what he was going through.”

“Then go.” Keith curls in on himself, raspy breaths filling the room. “I won’t be around much longer anyway.”

“No, that’s not it. What Adam felt when I almost died on him, I don’t want to be that person. If you’re suffering, I want nothing more than to be by your side.”

“You make it so easy to suffer.” Keith huffs, a movement he shouldn’t make as he struggles to catch air for the next few seconds. “I’m going to kill whoever thought it would be fun to have a cactus’ spines puncture my lunges.”

“Maybe you should have given me another spider plant instead. No flowers to cough up.”

“I hate you.” Keith groans. “Why did I have to fall for someone like you?”

“I could ask the same thing.” Shiro runs a hand through Keith’s hair, it’s greasy and damp where the sweat covering his forehead has settled against it.

“You don’t love me though.” Keith groans.

“What makes you think that?”

“That call you got months ago.”

Shiro falls silent. His hand stops at the side of Keith’s face. “He’s not my boyfriend. I told you already, Adam and I broke up more than a year ago.”

“Didn’t sound like that.”

“He says that too.” Shiro sighs. “I may not be the best at moving on, but there’s nothing in our relationship that could have us get back together again.”

“Then what am I to you?”

“Everything I’ve been looking for since I moved here. I knew that the first time I saw you at work.”

“And you bought a cactus.”

“It was a year after we broke up, I guess I was lonely and at least cactus can’t judge me.” Shiro laughs softly. Keith’s breathing softens. It’s either a good or bad sign, and Shiro doesn’t wish to tell Krolia her son passed away in the middle of an awkward confession.

“And now?” Keith sighs. Shiro can hear how he tries to stop a flower from coming out, wetness sticking to the back of his throat.

“I just wish to ask you out on a proper date. Outside of your shop. When you’re feeling better.” _When_ not if.

“You’re sappy, Shiro.”

“I’ve heard that before. It’s hard to get rid of.”

“Don’t.” Keith tries to lean closer, supporting himself on shaky arms.

Shiro closes the gap between them, sealed by Keith when he plants his lips on Shiro’s and pulls the man onto the bed. Keith taste like copper, blood lingering in his mouth. It doesn’t matter. As long as he doesn’t feed any flowers in Shiro’s mouth, he can only enjoy the touch.

No flowers come. Not until they break their kiss and Keith falls down on his pillow again. He coughs then, but this time, no blood coats the flowers.

“Did it not fix this?” Shiro asks with concern. He tries his best to support Keith, who is back on his side.

“No…” Keith groans between coughs, “it did. There’s just a lot back down there. It needs to get out.”

“Slowly,” Shiro comforts him, his hand rubbing Keith’s back in circles, “just let it out.”

Keith coughs for a number of hours, but Shiro doesn’t leave his side. After one long fit, Krolia opens the door with the idea of watching her son die in his torturer’s arms. But when she sees it’s anything but that, she casts them a soft smile and leaves them alone again. It’s just them, along with Kosmo licking at Keith’s fingers in a sense of comfort. One by one, the flowers fall to the floor in a clear puddle. Blood no longer sticks to them after the spines have come out. But it doesn't fix the damage to Keith's throat. The week after, Keith puts himself on a diet of nothing but soup and tea until he's able to form sentences that don't cut his throat open. Shiro tries to be there for him until Krolia forces him to go back to his job and cat. All the time, Keith refuses to find help. But knowing that Keith’s okay is more important to him than getting back on his feet faster. Perhaps he needs the weeks off.

Two weeks later, Marmora Flowers opens up again. It's a joyous occasion that has surrounding shops celebrate. Shiro skips work when he sees Kosmo in the window in the early morning. Whatever company wants a motivational speech, he’s sure it isn’t as important as Keith’s return.

Kosmo is back in his usual spot amidst the plants. But as Shiro walks to the door, his head raises up and the dog jumps down to meet him inside.

With the opening of the door, voices overpower the ring of the bell as he enters. A tray of cupcakes is planted on the counter. Shiro lets his hand run through Kosmo’s fur before he walks over to Keith.

“Hey,” Keith smiles when he sees him, “I was afraid you couldn’t make it. It’s good to see you.”

“Not as good as it is to see you again. You look better.” There’s a healthy color on his skin again, and the dark circles under his eyes are back to the size from when they first met.

“Feel better too.” Keith nods. “My voice officially came back a few days ago. Mom has nothing to keep me locked up at home anymore.”

“I wouldn’t want to see that again.”

“So I take it you two talked things out?” Shiro looks up to see Hunk leaning against the central flower table.

“Yeah,” He smiles, “I guess we did.”

“Good.” Hunk smiles. He knows more than he wants to admit, it’s easy to see. But Shiro nor Keith decide to get into it. The weeks with Keith stuck at home were longer than any month Shiro wasn’t able to visit. They have time to make up for.

“I’d love to take you home,” Shiro says without thinking.

“Let me finish one day of work at least.” Keith smiles, “I missed being here and someone will have to take on Lance’s wedding ideas.”

So Shiro waits every hour inside the shop. Eventually, he gets dragged behind the counter when an apron is thrown around his neck. He’s never cut a rose before, but Keith’s hands guide him as he creates his first bouquet. It doesn’t matter that it’s about to fall apart. When Marmora Flowers closes, Shiro takes the flowers and Keith up to his place. In the late summer sun, the white walls welcome them inside.

“I don’t know what I expected from you, but not for you to be this basic.” Keith laughs when he looks around the living room.

“Maybe you just want something basic in your life.”

“Maybe,” Keith mutter as he looks though, “Though I have to say, for being the only color in your house, that pillow is horrible.” Keith picks up the patchwork pillow from the couch and holds up for Shiro to see.

“My ex made it,” Shiro tells him. “Black just happens to have made it her favorite pillow.”

Keith sighs and turns to the cat chilling in the window. “You have horrible taste.”

She looks at him for a second, before she stands up, walks around and sits next to the small, red pot. Keith smiles at the sight of it.

“I can't believe you really didn't kill it.”He says, picking up the plant and studying it.

“It's a fighter.” Shiro laughs. He takes the pot from Keith's hands and holds it close. “Don’t get mad, okay.” he says, “but I named the cactus.”

“It’s pretty normal for people to name their plants, Shiro.”

“Yeah but,” He scratches the back of his head, “I named it Keith.”

The smile and laugh that escapes Keith aren’t what he expected.

“I can't believe I almost died over a cactus with my own name.”

“It reminded me of you. But I can change it if you don’t want to be reminded of it.”

Keith wraps his hands around Shiro’s and leans in for a quick kiss.

“It’s fine, Shiro. It’s cute.”

“I can’t believe I have two Keiths to care for now.” Shiro laughs, wrapping an arm around Keith's waist.

“As long as you don’t kill both of us.” Keith grins.

Shiro doesn’t get to protest. The cactus is quickly removed from his hold and placed on the table before he’s pushed onto the couch. Following their love, Keith blooms again each year to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also dedicated to my own plant, Keith 3.0, who somehow still lives. Like Shiro, I too am a plant disaster.
> 
> Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Ahhuya) or [Tumblr](https://aulra.tumblr.com/)


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